


The Good Night

by The_Bastard_Writer



Series: Epilogue Raw [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aurors, BAMF Harry Potter, Dark, F/M, Gritty, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Terrorism, The City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28560561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bastard_Writer/pseuds/The_Bastard_Writer
Summary: The Night's Circle, a pure blood terrorist organization, has been on a violent rampage. Can Auror Potter and his red headed drunken partner stop them before its too late?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Series: Epilogue Raw [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100093
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. Smoking Outside

DISCLAIMER: I DON’T OWN HARRY POTTER OR ITS CHARACTERS, ALL THIS IS FOR LOVE NOT PROFIT

Harry took a long drag from his muggle cigarette letting the smoke warm his lungs. It was freezing outside and the pouring rain only made it worse.

He thought about her, Hermione, and how she called his cigs slow death, it didn’t bother him though, all death was slow unless it happened at once. That thought made him instinctively feel for the tip of his wand up his coat sleeve. Feeling the aged and slightly splintered wood relaxed him even if it was just for a second.

He took another long drag but this time he let the smoke sit in his mouth for a time before inhaling. Harry hated the taste of burnt tobacco but he couldn’t do this with the taste of her still lingering in his mouth. Thinking of her heat made him forget that he was standing outside a muggle club at ten to midnight getting rained on.

An hour ago he was in a messy but cozy office at the ministry with bushy hair in his face and a pair of legs wrapped around his waist. The sounds of love softly whispered into his ears.

  
Now all he could hear was muggle dance music off in the distance, muffled by the rattle of the rain.

Taking another drag Harry again attempted to smoke the taste of her out of his mouth and hopefully her memory from his mind. Thinking of her was dangerous at a moment like this. He was on a mission, a mission he was leading against a group of terrorists.

Dark wizards stupidly calling themselves the Night’s Circle were making a name for themselves as the second coming of Salazar and promised to wash the magical world clean with mudblood. They had committed several attacks recently starting small with brutal assaults on “mudblood lovers” and eventually evolving into bombings of muggle born owned businesses.

Hermione through her office at the ministry had been tracking them for weeks but every lead ended with a fight to the death and a body. Thankfully it had been more of their bodies then Aurors.

  
Thinking her name, Hermione, set Harry back, her name was never just a name, it was a name that came with images and feelings attached to it. Feelings that had no place in the work he was about to do.

  
Harry quickly took another drag only to realize he was hitting nothing but filter. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out his pack of cigs only to watch them get ruined by the rain.  
“Shit”, he said to himself, breaking his silence.

  
The charm he silently used to keep him dry from the rain didn’t cover his once fresh pack of Merlins and now they were dripping with the icy rain water. Thinking the right set of charms, Harry dried his cigs and lit a fresh one now fully protected from the rain.

  
Feeling the smoke once again entering his lungs he chuckled a bit to himself. He wondered what Dumbledore would say about his creative use of wandless wordless magic. His former headmaster used to use magic power sparingly and never for something as trivial as smoking. The thought only reminded Harry that he wasn’t his headmaster and in the years since his death Harry wasn’t sure if he had ever wanted to be.

  
Harry was a powerful wizard, his abilities resembling more those of his former arch enemy Lord Voldemort then his beloved headmaster. This thought frightened Harry and was his main reason for not accepting a position at Hogwarts, which ironically only caused him to further resemble Voldemort.

  
Looking out into watery muggle street in front of him, the puddles reflecting the lights of the club, Harry for better or worse knew who he was. He was a weapon, he had been all his life even if he hadn’t always known it. Now age and cynicism forced him into a bittersweet acceptance of his purpose in life.

Of course Hermione would very much disagree with this sort of thinking.  
“Shit,” breaking his silence once more.

  
There she was again back in his thoughts, the one place she really shouldn’t be right now.Over the years Harry had learned that she was always going to be in his thoughts in one way or another.

When he was accepted into the Auror Corp, she was granted permission to enter the highly secretive ranks of the Unspeakables. A decade later and Harry still couldn’t exactly say what the hell they did in that department.

  
After taking his next drag, Harry looked at his muggle watch.

They were late, his partner and the three junior Aurors who were coming along. His partner was no surprise, but the newly badged Aurors should have been on time. Harry didn’t want them on this mission in the first place but Hermione insisted, her voice now echoing in the back of his mind.  
“They will have to learn sometime”

“Denying them a chance to learn isn’t protecting them from anything”

  
Harry for the moment had given up trying to shut her out of his mind, the best he can do is try and put things in perspective.

  
He was to go undercover by use of glamour to attempt to sell a bogus set of Frankish Mints to the Nights Circle. The whole mission showed how precarious the situation really was. Merlin forbid the Nights Circle actually get their hands on real Frankish Mints, those little buggers release a deadly poison in an area the size of a multiple Quidditch fields.

  
They really lucked into this meeting in the first place, some informant under the protection of the Unspeakables had set it up, and naturally Harry did not trust it. This thought sent Harry to feel for his wand again. Harry knew this was a bad place for a meeting, a public location full of muggles, this created all kinds of problems. Harry could level the whole muggle block if he had to but the possible massive loss of innocent life limited him.

Lighting another Merlin, Harry held it in his mouth puffing on it slowly, he was growing impatient and worse, Hermione hated tardiness.


	2. In the Club

DISCLAIMER: I DON’T OWN HARRY POTTER OR ITS CHARACTERS, ALL THIS IS FOR LOVE NOT PROFIT

Dropping his now smoked cigarette Harry heard several cracks around him.

  
“Are you early Potter or does this make us late,” said his red haired partner who now appeared in front of him with an all too cheery smile.

  
“Are you drunk again Weasely,” Harry responded before lighting another cigarette, he was now becoming dangerously close to finishing the pack.

  
“Well ya know I had to make sure these little twats had at least one in them before they came along on this shit mission,” said Ron, his head motioning to the three young wizards behind him.

  
Harry took a second to look them over, despite the unknown amounts of Laddegans Fire Whiskey Ron had made them inbib before coming they looked somewhere between nervous and scared. Harry had hoped at least one would be cocky or at least slightly arrogant but now Harry worried he was about to lead these young Aurors to their doom.

  
“You should have more faith in the mission, she put a lot of work into making it happen,” Harry knew he shouldn’t have responded but it was too late.

  
“Oh really and how much of that work involved your famous cock and that uptight arse of hers,” replied Ron, his tone sounding somewhere between a cruel joke and an outright insult.

  
The comment earned Ron a swift punch from his partner. The three young Aurors were not surprised by this. They had heard stories about Potter and Weasley from around the office, the greatest Auror team that hated Dark Wizards almost as much as they hated each other. There was even a somewhat serious bet among the Aurors that they would be the death of one another, not some Dark Wizard or deadly creature.

  
“You hit like a bitch” Ron said from the floor as a couple of young Aurors helped him up.  
“Right you are Weasley, I learned that little move from your sister,” Harry said, his tone mimicking Rons.

  
At this comment, Ron launched himself from the arms of the Aurors and struck Harry across the face with a semi closed fist.

  
Harry knew his partner was drunk as usual. He could have dodged Ron’s punch and even responded with a knee but decided to let him have it for the sake of the mission. Ron shouldn’t be allowed his Laddegans anymore, it tends to bring out his demons. Harry let it go because Ron would need his demons tonight.

  
The three young Aurors were now terrified, they knew they were going on a risky mission and any comfort that came with being teamed up with two thirds of the famed golden trio and had now disappeared.

  
One of the Aurors, Olivia Reed attempted to say something with the hope of breaking up the fight in front of her. She opened her mouth but no words came out, she wasn’t sure why. She looked over at Hunt and Stynch for help but they were too busy focused on the puddles that had formed around their shoes. To think the others from their graduating class of Aurors thought they were lucky for this assignment, a few of them were even jealous. Reed, Hunt, and Stynch now wished they could be on any assignment but this one.

  
Harry and Ron stared at each other with nothing but contempt waiting to see if one of them will escalate things further. Harry likened it to a muggle game of chicken, Him and Ron each trying to see who let things go first. Situations like this happen all the time between them, sometimes lasting seconds and others lasting days.

  
Thankfully a silver otter appeared between them and they all began to hear Hermione’s work voice.  
“Aurors as of 12:07am your targets have been in place for over five minutes, please see to your assignment, thank you,” spouted the silver Otter.

  
Both Harry and Ron agreed Hermione’s office work voice sounded painfully like Umbridge, which was something they both knew better than to share with her.

  
“Right so you ready to handle this shit, properly for once” said Harry, saying only to Ron as if the other Aurors weren’t even there.

  
“I thought you would never ask,” responded Ron, this time with a somewhat legitimate smile.

  
Harry and Ron then turned to the young Aurors and began going over the mission.

  
“Okay Aurors, you are to follow Auror Weasley’s lead, if he fights you fight, if he runs you run, if he goes to the loo to have a shit you lot better be ready to wipe” Harry said trying to relieve the tension.

  
“Yes and Auror Potter is the only Auror to engage in conversation with the targets, if he is unable to do so then I will engage, if I am unable to do so, then you lot are fucked,” Ron’s attempt at relieving the tension only worked to further frighten the already nervous Aurors.

  
Harry and Ron didn’t mean to be so crude, but years of doing this job stifled what was left of their good nature. They had watched many good wizards and witches meet horrible deaths or worse, so better to not get attached especially not with Aurors fresh out of the Academy.

  
With a few motions of his hands and a quick muttering of words, Harry applied the glamour to the team. Wearing different faces, they hoped they could at least fool the Nights Circle enough so that they wouldn't immediately realize that they were Aurors.

  
Walking into the Muggle Club their ears were hit with the sound of the music’s heavy bass. Reed and Hunt were pure bloods and had hardly any experience with the muggle world. The effects of the flashing lights and the loud music only made them stick out more. Harry and Ron knew this was a bad start but pressed forward anyway. The death toll of the Circle’s last attack reminding them that they really didn’t have much of a choice.

  
Auror Stynch, a muggle born, did his best to calm his fellow young Aurors. He even tried to dance a little as they walked through the club. His half hearted attempts to bob his head and bounce his shoulders earning him odd looks from Reed and Hunt.

  
Stynch then locked eyes with Harry who was now looking back at him and the other young Aurors. Harry recognized Stynch’s attempt to fit in and motioned for Stynch to look over at Ron.

  
Ron had somehow managed to get himself a drink and was now dancing with a scantily dressed muggle woman.

  
Over the years, Ron had become an expert at blending into the Muggle world, a skill he picked up from cheating on his ex wife. Seeing Ron whisper into the ear of his muggle dance partner, Harry for a moment felt a little better about himself. He obviously wasn't the only reason for Ron and Hermione’s divorce.

  
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw three dark purple sparks from a table in what must have been the V.I.P section on the second floor of the club.  
Harry didn’t bother trying to talk over the music and instead used legilimency to speak directly into his team’s minds.  
“Right team, that is the signal, 2nd floor, table number 5,”

  
The team started to find their way through the crowd as they made their way upstairs. Auror Hunt felt the need to get Ron and very hesitantly put his hand on the red head’s shoulder.  
“What the fuck you want” spat Ron in response to the Hunt’s hand.

  
Hunt didn’t know what to say and just stood there looking at Ron, his hand still on his shoulder. Ron smiled, he turned to his muggle dance partner and whispered something in her ear making her giggle. He then started following Hunt to the second floor.

  
By the time Ron and Hunt had made it to the second floor table they had missed introductions. There were five members of the Circle at the table and at the center was the one who had no need to be introduced. Timothy Night, the leader of the circle who had recently taken to leaving threatening messages magically engraved on bodies of muggleborns that he’s killed. Always making sure to sign his name, Tim Night, Harry and Ron had been itching to lay him low, despite Hermione’s request for them to bring him in.

  
The young aurors sat at the table trying their very best to look intimidating, they weren’t told what their actual cover story was supposed to be. When they asked what they were to do if they were questioned, Unspeakable Granger herself warned them if they had to actually talk then things had already gone bad at which point they were advised to flee.

  
There really wasn’t much room for the young Aurors to talk anyway. The whole conversation was between Harry Potter and Tim Night and both spoke to each other in Parseltongue. The language had become a pure blood extremist calling card and Harry’s ability to speak it fluently was the only thing that made an operation like this possible.

  
Ron was making eyes at some muggle’s wife or girlfriend two tables from their own, acting as if he wasn’t listening in on Harry and Night’s conversation. As far as he could tell from the bits of Parseltongue he knew, the conversation was going well. Harry had even made a couple of jokes and Night seemed relaxed. Reaching into his jacket, Ron felt the packet of fake Frankish Mints that Hermione and the Unspeakables had created for them. He really hoped they worked because if anything were to be off even in the slightest way this could turn ugly very fast.

  
“Oi Ginger, show this pureblooded man what he’s come to see” barked Harry, doing his best Hagrid voice.

  
Ron silently cursed Harry for giving him the code name Ginger, and promised to hit him again if they lived to the end of this mission. He then pulled the packet out of his jacket and gently laid them on the table as if they could explode.

  
Seeing the fake Mints on the table, the young Aurors suddenly tensed up but when Harry Potter and Tim Night continued talking, the three began to relax a little.  
Ron overheard the Parseltongue word for money and also started to relax. The plan was to sell them the fake Frankish Mints, which were actually a magically enhanced tracking device and then make the arrest later.

  
Tim Night gently picked up fake Mints and inspected them. Night’s fellow Circle members looked at him enthusiastically as if they were waiting for something. At that moment Night slammed the mints on the table in a manner which would have surely made them go off had they been real.

Crazy fucking bastard, Harry thought to himself, this whole meeting was a prelude to a suicide attack on muggle London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR READING, HOPE Y'ALL ENJOYED, COMMENTS/REVIEWS/QUESTIONS ARE ALL APPRECIATED, MUCH LOVE


	3. And it All Goes to Shit

DISCLAIMER: I DON’T OWN HARRY POTTER OR ITS CHARACTERS, ALL THIS IS FOR LOVE NOT PROFIT

When nothing happened, it was obvious to everyone at the table that the whole thing was a set up. To the Auror team the next few seconds passed in slow motion.

  
Harry immediately used his magic to flip the table and send it flying into Night pinning him to the wall.

  
The Circle members had their wands ready the whole time and immediately started cursing the team.

  
Ron launched himself backwards in his chair and watched the colored streaks of the curses fly over him.

  
All three young Aurors not ready for what was about to happen were hit. Hunt and Reed were wounded, Stynch was dead. Reed crawled to Hunt who had taken a cutting curse to the upper chest. Seeing him quickly bleeding out she didn’t know what to do. Her training told her to pick up her wand and engage the enemies but Hunt only had seconds. After hesitating for a moment, Reeds training took over and she got up to return fire.

  
Ron who was still on the floor waiting for his moment to strike watched the scene unfold. He was proud of Reed for sticking to her training but then watched her forget a key part of it. She stood straight up in the middle of a battle. A second later she joined Stynch on the floor lying dead from an Avada Kedavra.

  
Harry knew the young Aurors were going to die the moment Night tried to use the fake Frankish Mints. They weren’t prepared for this scenario and the Circle had been planning it all along. As soon as he pinned Night, Harry sent a Reducto at the four other members of the Circle. The two farthest away from Harry’s curse were knocked down. The second closest had almost every bone in their body shattered from the force and were now on the floor moaning. The first, the Circle member who took the bulk of Harry’s curse and was now in pieces.

  
Walking towards Night, Harry knew he had to focus all his attention on him. Tim Night didn’t become the leader of his own pureblood terrorist group based on his charm alone.

  
Harry had his back exposed as he walked and he knew if one of the remaining Circle members tried to curse him then he would have to turn around to block it meaning he would have to take his attention away from Night.

  
This is one of the moments where Harry appreciated his partner, all their bad blood aside, Harry knew he could trust Ron to handle things from here.  
Ron wasn’t like Harry, he wasn’t the type to take a dragon head on. Instead he preferred to take the Dragon by surprise. On the floor still in his seat he closed his eyes and waited. The muggles in the club were screaming but somehow nobody stopped the music from continuing to play.

The two Circle members who were still living had gotten up and cautiously made their way over to where Ron and the rest of Auror team were laying.

  
Ron was worried they would go after Harry, if they did then Ron would have to intervene and things would only get messier. He didn’t want that, who knows how many were dead already and any more stray curses would only increase that number. He patiently did his best to listen for their sounds, the music made this insanely difficult but he figured the next curse he heard will tell him all he needed to know.

  
Unfortunately for the still bleeding Hunt, the next curse Ron heard was the killing curse. The two members of the Nights Circle together fired Avada Kedavras into Hunt. The arrogant overkill was the opportunity Ron needed.

Rolling over, Ron fired a Reducto at the Circle member nearest to him, the force sending him from the second floor and into the dance floor below. The Circle members must have thought Ron was dead because the second one didn’t have the chance to raise his wand before Ron hit him with a cutting curse which instantly served his head from his neck. Ron then looked down into the now empty dance floor and saw the broken but breathing Circle member trying to crawl away.

  
Despite all the grief Ron gave Harry, he hardly ever thought of his ex wife. It had been over a decade since he felt any sort of love for the woman and as he entered adulthood he wondered if he ever loved her to begin with.

Honestly Ron didn’t know what possessed Harry to steal her from him, she was a bossy bitch who sucked the fun out of life. Sure when she told Ron she was leaving him, Ron screamed and acted like an asshole but deep down Ron was cheering. The first night without her, Ron threw a wild party that culminated in the first of many orgies that Ron would later earn a reputation for hosting.

  
At this moment, many years after their separation, Ron was thinking of his ex wife. She would adamantly disapprove of what he was about to do. She would scold him, possibly suspend him, and maybe even threaten his job. Taking a second to look back at the bodies of the young Aurors who did their best in a situation no one could have prepared them for. Ron did something he was very good at by now. Forgetting that Hermione Granger existed.

  
Lifting his wand and pointing it at the still crawling Circle member, Ron sent another cutting curse and severed another head from its body.

\-------

When Harry arrived at the table he had used to pin Tim Night to the wall he wasn’t surprised to see that Night had made his way out. Night using some form of burning curse had melted a hole into the wall behind him and was now running across the roof of the building next to the club.

  
Harry wondered if he should try to arrest him, after everything he’s done he really didn’t want to. He was sure that Ron would be having the heads of his followers why shouldn’t he add Night’s head to the pile. Thinking of Hermione, the one time he allowed her to enter his mind since this disaster of a mission started, he decided to do what she asked. To at least try and take him in.

  
“Night, put down your wand and you will be given a fair trial” yelled Harry.

  
Night stopped, turning around he realized who he was facing. By this time Harry's glamour had worn off and Night was now staring down the once boy who lived.  
“You are a fool Harry Potter, I am the new Dark Lord and I will finish the work that the great Lord Voldemort started” Night said in parseltongue.

  
Night muttered to himself quickly then bowed before Harry signifying an intent to dual.

  
After giving Night the chance to surrender and now being challenged to a formal duel, Harry felt perfectly justified in obliging him.

  
Leaping fifteen feet in the air, Harry landed perfectly across from Night. Now sharing the same rooftop, Harry returned the bow. He didn’t bother firing the first curse or even raising his wand, Harry had only worried about dueling him for the muggles who were at risk in the club. Now alone on a rooftop Harry intended to take his time with Night.

  
Yelling at the top of his lungs, Night sent every curse he could think of Harry’s way . Each curse failed to even threaten Harry. Some curses Harry blocked with a simple wave of his hand, other curses like the infamous Avada Kedavra, Harry used his magic to levitate objects to block.

  
Harry knew Night was no Dark Lord, he was nothing without his Circle. When Night had challenged Harry to a duel Harry had a small hope that maybe Night would actually be able to put up a fight. It had been years since Harry had actually had to duel and even longer since another wizard actually posed a danger to him. Chasing pathetic fools like Night, made Harry feel more like a muggle dog catcher than any sort of warrior. The challenge was catching them but once they were caught then they were his.

  
Night was running out of breath and was now struggling to keep up his barrage of curses.

  
Harry was going to finish it when he heard a familiar bang. He looked up and saw a fireworks display of a golden lion in the sky above the club. Borrowing from his brother's firework techniques, that was Ron’s signal. Harry was sure everything had been taken care of and Night’s followers were now missing their heads. Hermione entered Harry’s mind again, she would be pissed that Ron again chose to behead instead of arrest. She would scold him for sure, maybe suspend him, but Harry would make sure she didn’t make good on her threats against his job.

Harry turned back to Night to finish him but instead saw him grab a broom mid air and attempt an escape.

  
“Shit” Harry said to himself, this is why he tried not to think of Hermione during a mission.

  
Taking after Voldemort, or Tom as Harry chose to refer to him was not all bad. Dumbledore may have had style but Tom had ability. Maybe it was the way their souls had once been connected or as the Daily Prophet put it, Tom being Harry’s greatest enemy also made him Harry’s greatest teacher. Thinking of Tom, Harry slowly lifted off from the ground like a muggle helicopter.

  
Normally Harry apparated from place to place or simply walked. He hadn’t ridden a broom since his time at Hogwarts. Despite it being one of his greatest pleasures during his youth, as an adult Harry was annoyed with flying. Night, with all the trouble that he caused, had now gone far beyond the point of annoyance. Once elevated to the same level as Night, Harry shot after him.

  
Night looked back thinking he had skillfully made his escape only to see an extremely angry Harry Potter flying after him. As a self proclaimed Dark Lord he had tried and failed at flying several times and had considered the rumors of Voldemort’s ability to fly as pure myth. Seeing Harry move through the sky and closing in on him broke his arrogant demeanor and Night became truly frightened. He pushed his broom to go even faster but it was too late. Harry placed a hand on Night’s broom and the broom suddenly erupted into flames.

  
Night’s hands were scorched and for a brief moment his legs too were on fire, but the loss of his broom sent him plummeting towards the ground. Closing his eyes and screaming every dark curse that may save his life, Night kept falling only to feel himself be lifted and carried at a speed faster than that of his now charred broom. Hearing the still playing muggle music from the club grow louder and louder, he realized where he was being taken.

  
When the movement finally stopped Night opened his eyes and looked down to see the Muggle Club then up at the still very angry Harry Potter. Night silently hoped this meant he was being arrested, he was sure he could find a way out of Azkaban. Harry had Night literally in his hands and was considering arresting him when the muggle music was interrupted by Night’s voice begging for mercy and to be arrested.

That was it for Harry, Night may have not been anywhere near as powerful as a Darklord but he was just as vile. Looking down at Night, Harry said,  
“What, apologies mate, I can’t hear you,”

  
And with that Harry let Night go, watching him fall hundreds of feet and crashing through the roof and into what Harry assumed was the dance floor of the club. The rest of Night would be Ron’s mess to clean up.

\-------

  
Hermione took another drink from her once full glass of wine. She wasn’t supposed to drink while on duty but she was an Unspeakable so what she was and wasn’t supposed to do was really no one’s business. She always drank when she sent Harry on missions like this, missions where the success rate was low and people were going to die.

Muggles, Muggleborns, Half Bloods, Pure Bloods, the red liquid which gave them all life stained Hermione’s hands just as much as they did Harry’s. Sure he was the one who actually spilled the blood, whether that be cursing them with such force that they would physically come apart like the rag dolls her muggle mother had given her as a child or, as she was just notified, dropped from the sky like a fallen angel. Harry did the deed but she knew she was responsible for making the deed happen.

Olivia Reed, Alex Hunt, and Joseph Stynch their blood was now added to her well stained hands. She had picked them for the mission herself and had hopes for their success even though she knew more than likely she had given them a death sentence.

  
Looking at the remaining wine splash around the glass in her hand, Hermione reluctantly thought of her ex husband. Part time drunk womanizer and full time idiot, he used to accuse her of being too serious and not enjoying life.

Staring down at the mess of papers on her desk all she could see were the horror stories that were the crimes committed by the Night’s Circle.

Someone has to be serious, someone has to stay up at night and plan a massacre so red haired idiots and their sister can enjoy life. Hermione couldn’t help but think of her husband’s ex, Ginny whatever last name she has now. Seems like thinking of one stupid Weasley leads to another. All Ginny wanted to do was enjoy life like her brother, of course she couldn’t do it alone, she had to drag Harry into it. The quidditch star and the auror, it had all the trappings of a bad muggle movie. Poor Harry, he would go on missions like the one tonight, lose half his team and send several Dark Wizards and Witches to the hell that they belonged. Then he would come home only to be forced into a suit that he didn’t care for and paraded around like a trophy at some magical ball. Hermione was always honest with herself, Harry did not break up her marriage, but she damn sure broke his.

  
Chief Unspeakable Granger, at this moment she was more powerful than the minister, and she did it all as a muggle born. Perhaps she could have done it alot faster if she took Harry’s name, Chief Unspeakable Potter wed to Head Auror Potter, it would be blatantly clear which family ran the ministry. Instead, after her much convincing from her husband, she kept her maiden name, at least professionally.

  
Turning around and leaning her back against her desk, she stared at her name engraved in stone on the wall, Chief Unspeakable Granger, it should read grim reaper or at least the reaper’s boss.

  
At that moment a loud crack broke her train of thought. She looked up and saw Harry standing there looking like the hell he had been through. In moments like this Hermione wanted to give it all up. Reasons that she thought about more often then she should would then enter her mind. Their oldest would be starting Hogwarts soon, they could retire, they could even finish the restoration of Grimmauld Place or finally build that cabin in the forest of Dean they had always talked about. Turning to face him, she set her wine glass down on her desk and thought, they can even have another child. How many children is too many? Before they start calling her Molly? She wondered if that's what it would take, can creating another life make up for the lives they both had taken.

  
The greatest parents and grimest reapers, the duality of it all almost made her laugh out loud.

  
Harry again broke her from her train of thought this time with the flickering of a lighter that like the night’s mission refused to work as it was supposed to.  
She was so lost in her thoughts of the different life that they had both planned but never followed through on that she didn’t see him fish his last remaining cigarette from a pack that was now all too quickly finished.

  
Hermione walked from her desk and stood face to face with him. His unlit cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth as he tried to crack a smile.  
“You know I hate it when you do that,” said Hermione, finally breaking the silence between them.

  
She considered smoking slow death and she worried maybe that was what she was. She was Harry’s slow death, her missions slowly killing Harry. Not a physical death, a fair amount of magical study had actually gone into whether or not the boy who lived can actually die, but an emotional death. She knew the names of those young aurors will live forever as a scar on Harry’s soul, same as hers. Most of her coworkers, friends, enemies, and especially her ex husband would say her work was her life. That simply wasn’t true, Harry was her life and her work grew to compliment his creating a functional yet destructive circle. If she is his slow death then that makes her also her own.

  
That was their life together, slow death just like that cigarette.

  
Feeling low, Hermione waved her hand and Harry’s cigarette lit. Harry sensing his wife’s mood let the cigarette slip from his mouth, his magic making it disappear before it reached the ground. He then stepped past her and grabbed the wine glass from her desk. Tilting his head back, Harry finished the glass and set it back down. He then pulled Hermione into a hug and pressed his forehead to hers.

  
“You're going to have to stop the wine if we are going to have another,” whispered Harry.

  
“Only if you quit smoking,” Hermione whispered back.

  
Hermione would never admit it, but perhaps the Weasley’s were on to something.Harry and Hermione had to be serious, and they were. For years they fought for the lives of others so that now they might finally get to enjoy living instead of slowly dying.

  
Breaking their hug only to reconnect in a kiss they both shared a thought. Maybe tonight can be good.

**Author's Note:**

> THANKS FOR READING, MUCH LOVE, HOPE Y'ALL ENJOYED, COMMENTS/QUESTIONS ARE ALL APPRECIATED  
> Follow on IG @The_Bastard_Writer 4 Updates and New Stories


End file.
